Here’s one for the WTF Files — Sideshow Collectibles is selling an exact replica of the countdown watch Snake Plissken (Kurt Russell) wore in the sci-fi classic, Escape From New York (1981). The Lifeclock One Snake Edition Smartwatch Prop Replica made by Ridgewood Watch Co. certainly paid attention to the details. But presumably the watch isn’t loaded with micro-explosives that will rupture your carotid arteries if you fail some sort of mission.

From the press release: “The Lifeclock one features a countdown, 22:59’:59” (Hartford Summit configuration only), standard and military time options, the ability to program up to 8 world clocks, display the date in 1 of 5 formats, stopwatch, 18 display animations and 8 character animations. With the app you can access the smartphone camera shutter release, push notifications of incoming and missed calls, voicemails, SMS & iMessage, app notifications (Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, Pinterest, LinkedIn, and more to come). The activity monitor tracks steps independent of your smartphone. A customizable daily alarm is also included.”

That’s a wrist-full. But here’s the real mind-blower — the oversized time piece, which doesn’t go with anything except combat spandex, is $399.00. If you’re so inclined to burn money, order yours by clicking HERE. If not, then here are a few now available/upcoming horror/sci-fi movies that may or may not rupture your carotid arteries and/or combat spandex…

THE OUTER WILD (available now)
“In this post-apocalyptic frontier western, mankind has given way to a new breed of beast, mutated from man. The survivor Laura may be the cure to these mutations but she flees to save herself. Aided by a hunter sent to catch her, she braves the dangerous unnatural wilderness in order to find a fabled refuge of freedom — and only there will she discover the fate of humanity at the end of the world.”

Apparently, this came out in September of the lost year of 2018. I must’ve been doing my laundry and the darn thing went right over my boxed detergent. As for the fabled refuge of freedom, that may be what they call it in the Apocalypse. But in the here and now we call it “7-Eleven™”.

PERFECT SKIN (August 25, 2018/UK | 2019 U.S.)
“This independent British feature film explores tattooing and body modification, and follows Katia, a young Polish woman, and her relationship with a mysterious tattoo artist — taking a dark turn as her fascination with him grows.”

I find the only way to get perfect skin is to use Scrubbing Bubbles™ followed by a moisturizing coat of floor wax. Most brands do the trick. P.S. Don’t do that — you might bump into me and get it all over my KISS t-shirt.

THE INTRUDER (2018/2019)
“A young married couple buy a beautiful Napa Valley home only to find that the man they bought it from refuses to let go of the property…and he slowly terrorizes them.”

The trailer for this one is nut house and goes straight to crazy town. And if you look closely enough, you’ll see nods to The Shining (1980) and Psycho (1960). I proclaim that to be quite cool.

MISSING LINK (April 12, 2019)
Meet Mr. Link: 8 feet tall, 630 lbs, and covered in fur, but don’t let his appearance fool you…he is funny, sweet, and adorably literal, making him the world’s most lovable legend. Tired of living a solitary life in the Pacific Northwest, Mr. Link recruits fearless explorer Sir Lionel Frost to guide him on a journey to find his long-lost relatives in the fabled valley of Shangri-La. Along with adventurer Adelina Fortnight, our fearless trio of explorers encounter more than their fair share of peril as they travel to the far reaches of the world to help their new friend.”

Normally, I wouldn’t beer fever dream of putting up an animated family film for preview, but this one’s about Bigfoot, though they don’t call him that. (Mr. Link? Yeesh.) They also give away his weight. Good thing he’s a dude; if this was a female cryptid, cartoon or not, you’d likely get your face smashed in. A safer way to skirt (sorry) the weight issue is to just say, “Why, no — all that fur doesn’t make you look at all fat.”

Someone or something is gruesomely canceling gym memberships for the patrons of Los Angeles’ hi-tech Starbody Health Spa, a sort of fitness, nightclub and disco playground where big hair and big muscles populate the landscape.

One fully naked gal is temporarily rendered blind by chlorine steam in the sauna. Another gal belly flops in a pool when the diving board mysteriously unbolts itself. A shower room occupied by super wet supermodels nearly get steam broiled in the locked locker room. A tanning bed turns into a human toaster. A woman gets her hand shredded off in a cocktail blender gone rogue. And a exercise machine literally rips a mullet-wearing guy in half. Feel the burn, then shake it off.

No one can figure out why this poser palace is going awry. Michael Evans, the club’s handsome owner, believes his ghost wife, who earlier doused herself with gasoline and did her impression of a car tire fire, is behind the mutilations/killings. He’s unfortunately right.

His wife’s suicide was never fully explained, but Micheal thinks it’s because she was with child, and then not. As she revenge returns from the grave (leaving typed messages on Mike’s computer, invading his dreams, using the gym’s facilities and skipping out on towel fees), she ends up possessing her brother, who works for Michael and blames him for his sister’s BBQ. Do your best to figure out what happens next.

Billy Eye (great name) is a rock star who loses his sanity marbles and kills everyone in the recording studio. No doubt aspirin abuse is at the bottom of this utter madness.

At his trial, a chick singer from the band Rocktober Blood testifies against Billy. Nothing left to do but put the broiler on high. After his execution everyone thinks it’s OK to go back in the studio. Um, not so much. Someone is terrorizing the snitch b*tch and he looks a heckuva lot like Billy Eye. How could that be? Wasn’t he char-broiled?

During a concert the “looks a lot like Billy Eye” guy stabs chick dancers with his microphone/sword and slices off the head of one of the rhythmically-inclined ladies and throws it into the audience. The paying crowd, understandably, thinks its part of the act. Regardless, a good value for your concert bucks.

Time to dig up Billy’s grave to see if he’s actually buried in it. Guess what they find besides stained spandex?

Rocktober Blood (1984), with the same crappy metal song played over and over, proves that there are some things worse than rock ’n roll.

Lots of reports of fresh sightings of the Lake Norman Monster (his name is “Normie”). Located in North Carolina, Normie’s been gooning out tourists by flashing his hump lately in public. While sightings go back 50 years, some think the creature is a giant catfish, others an actual leftover from the prehistoric era. I’m theorizing it’s a Loch Ness monster shaped log someone threw in the lake. (Okay, it was me. Are you happy?)

Lake Norman is just under 20 miles from Uptown Charlotte. I know her; she’s kind of a floozy. If you go on LakeNormanMonster.com, there isn’t much in the way of compelling photographic evidence (mostly testimonies from drunk fishermen), but a virtual roadside stand of Normie books, posters, art, T-shirts and coffee mugs. I’ll give this to North Carolina — they know how to market a the snot out of this “creature” whose “sightings” are the stuff of tourist dollar dreams.

So is there an actual lake monster living in a North American lake that people swim, fish and pee in? With no physical evidence whatsoever, all signs still point to yes. And speaking of things you might want to keep an eye out for, here are a few upcoming horror and sci-fi movies/TV series that are more or less proven to exist…

TEMPLE (September 1, 2017)
“Three Americans on a trip to Japan are fascinated by a haunted temple, and, despite warnings from the villagers, decide to spend a night there.”

That’s Americans for you, never listening to anybody else other than the voices that come from the bottle you have a death grip on. Heck, show me a hauntedtemple/house/condo/dive bar and get out of my way. But know this — I won’t go all the way to Japan to party in a ghost-filled temple. Too expensive and I’d probably end up sitting next to a spirit of a coach class traveler the whole way there and back. The flick sounds fun, though it’ll probably look a LOT like one of my home movies.

THE EXORCIST SEASON 2 (Friday, September 29, 2017)
“Across the Atlantic, Father Bennett attempts to weed out those within the Vatican who have turned against God. Ultimately, Tomas and Marcus are led to Andrew Kim, a former child psychologist who runs a group home for five at-risk foster children on a secluded private island off the coast of Seattle. When one of the children under Andrew’s care is targeted by a powerful force, the two priests head west, setting themselves on a collision course with Hell.”

Two things: Watched season one and was blindsided with the story’s sweet twist. Secondly, season two takes place on a private island off the coast of Seattle? Well, double sweet, as the Emerald City is where I dwell. However, I do take issue with the “private island off the coast of Seattle” part; there is no such thing. There is, though, Vashon, Bainbridge and Whidbey islands, all of which are wide open to the stinky public and are only short ferry/paddle boat rides to go stink up the place. There’s a bunch of small islands (San Juans, Camano) within seagull reach. Maybe it’s one of those damned places. Heh.

THE SNOWMAN (October 20, 2017)
“When an elite crime squad’s lead detective investigates the disappearance of a victim on the first snow of winter, he fears an elusive serial killer may be active again. With the help of a brilliant recruit, the cop must connect decades-old cold cases to the brutal new one if he hopes to outwit this unthinkable evil before the next snowfall.”

Total stock serial killer plot, but with one exception — Michael Fassbender is the lead detective. He was Magneto in a couple X-Men movies and the android David/Walter in Alien: Covenant (2017). Also — and this is no joke — his character’s name in this one is Harry Hole. (I can’t even type that without LOL-ing.) But it’s true. You can’t make up stuff like this. Okay, I could. But no one else.

CHARISMATA (2017/2018)
“As a rookie detective struggling to find acceptance in a police department defined by a culture of bullying and intolerance, things go from bad to worse when the chief suspect in a series of brutal ritualistic murders takes a personal interest in her. A game of cat and mouse ensues which sees Rebecca’s grasp on reality beginning to spiral out of control, leading to a terrifying climax where she needs to fight for her sanity, her life and maybe even her soul.”

Maybe her soul? C’mon — make that part happen. No one cares about anybody’s sanity anymore as we’re all pretty much insane (except me). But when you throw a soul into the spiked punch bowl, then it’s time to grab a cup and start bailin’ like the darn thing sprung a leak. I do like the movie’s title — sounds like a freshly showered/powdered stripper or an ‘80s superheroine whose costume is nothing but stain-resistant spandex.

If you’re updating your bucket list, put 1985’s Night Train to Terror on it. With its mind-juggling array of monsters, demons, rampant nudity and wincingly painful music/signing/dance choreography segments from a bunch of New Wave kids dressed in day-glo spandex and headbands making a video for MTV™, this is one of the more surreal horror movies you’ll ever see.

It starts out almost like a bar joke set up: God and Satan are on a train, negotiating for souls, in this case three specific ones. (The train conductor addresses the Most Unholy One as Mr. Satan. Train conductors are so polite.) Elsewhere on the train (headed to Hell, by the way), the New Wave kids are rocking out, dancing gleefully and happily singing so bad, you’ll believe you’re in Hell already.

Broken into three mini stories, Night Train to Terror wastes no time getting to the good stuff: The Case of Harry Billings involves a hypnotized guy who lures people into being graphically tortured and skulls squashed for their remaining fairly fresh organs to be marketed.

The Case of Greta Connors follows with a guy and a gal having lights on sex before hooking up with a cult that is enamored with death and all it’s perks. This culminates with a Jimi Hendrix lookalike who gets an electric chair treatment (at a cocktail party, no less) and melts right before your eyes. Thankfully, his headband survived.

More spastic dancing and screwdiver-in-your-ear singing.

The Case of Claire Hansen, the final segment, has a corporate ladder-climbing Devil’s apprentice, who set his job goals a little on the high side: to destroy all of humanity. He should start with the New Wave kids making all that racket in-between the stories. A group of Immortals tries to stop him. Good luck with that.

All of this is just a capsule summation. But every story is drenched in everything from couch pillow-sized flying death bugs and claymation monsters tearing clay victims in half like they were a wishbone, to demon things, heads making like water balloons hitting concrete, open-face surgeries, flooding blood and other bodily fluids, and more importantly, comprehensive naked stuff, all of which is punctuated by mid’80s blow-dryed hair, glow-in-the-dark fashion and headbands. (I knew those things could withstand the test of time.)

So who wins the souls, God or Satan? Not gonna spoil the soup, but those on this Highway to Hell are making specific fashion statements. Regardless — and this is clichéd as all get out — you have to see Night Train To Terror to believe it.